


Young and Spry

by linksofmemories



Series: The Rory to My Amy [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you two are done contaminating the kitchen with your nauseating excuse for dirty talk, then I’m going to start cooking,” Laura said. “But maybe I should wipe down the entire room first. God knows what you two get up to in here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young and Spry

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place about a week after ["The Angels Take Manhattan (And Everyone's Soul)"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/527965).

 

“What are these, Stiles?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No, I can’t say that it is.”

Derek looked from Stiles to Laura to where she was pointing at the kitchen counter. He snorted. Laura glared at him while Stiles looked like he was about to start begging for help.

“Um, they’re cookies,” Stiles said, looking back at Laura.

“They’re store bought.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really big on baking,” he said. “And they’re the nice bakery kind of cookies. So, y’know, _technically_ they’re homemade.”

“And that’s great, but why would you buy cookies when you know that every Friday I make brownies?”

Derek should leave. He really should before Laura started throwing things at Stiles. He had warned Stiles though, as soon as Stiles had brought the cookies home he had raised an eyebrow at them and shook his head. Laura was the official dessert bringer for Friday Night Dinners since… well, since they started.

“I thought that we could switch it up a bit?” Stiles shrugged, now moving to the opposite of the kitchen island.

“Are my brownies not good enough for you anymore?” Laura asked, now walking around the island to make her way toward Stiles.

“What? No, c’mon, Laura,” Stiles said, giving an uneasy laugh and walking around the island as well. “Your brownies are awesome.”

Laura looked like she was about to lunge across the island and tackle him to the ground.

“I wasn’t thinking, I just saw the cookies and I was like ‘Hey, everyone likes cookies, cookies are great, I should buy cookies, Derek and I both have steady incomes, we can totally afford those cookies, cookies just make the world a better pl-’”

“ _Stiles_.”

“Allison, Amelia, and David made me do it!”

Well, that was a low blow. Leave it to Stiles to blame a woman who was pregnant for the second time (Derek’s sister-in-law), a four year-old (Derek’s goddaughter), and his two year-old godson (Derek’s nephew). Only Stiles.

Laura seemed to recognize this moment of weakness, making her way around the island completely to glare up at Stiles. “Do you know what you’re going to do, Stilinski?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You are going to put those cookies away in a cabinet somewhere or the pantry or the basement for all I care, and then on Monday you’re going to bring them into your class and give them to your students.”

“Well, that was a lot less menacing than I thought it would be.”

“Just remember this the next time you try to show me up with your cookies that you didn’t even make.”

“Laura, you use store bought brownie mix.”

“Yeah, but I add the chocolate chips,” Laura said, backing away from Stiles while pointing at him. “ _I add the chocolate chips_.”

And then she was gone, disappearing into the hallway, most likely making her way back to the family room with everyone else.

“Is it just me or is she getting more terrifying?” Stiles asked, grabbing the box of cookies and shoving them into a random cabinet.

“She’s always been like that,” Derek shrugged, wrapping an arm around Stiles and pulling him back against his chest. “When are we going to tell them?”

“Tonight,” Stiles said. “Definitely tonight.”

“We already agreed on that,” Derek said. “But when tonight?”

“Right now?” Stiles asked. “I kind of want to get it over with.”

Derek perked an eyebrow at that, turning Stiles around so that he could face him. “I thought you would be excited to tell them.”

“Uh, not really,” Stiles said. “Because as soon as we tell them that we’re getting married they’re all going to start gushing and crowding around us and smiling and-.”

“You guys are getting married?”

Of course it was Scott. Derek and Stiles looked toward the doorway to see Scott looking at them with a mixture of… actually, Derek didn’t know what the hell that expression was supposed to be.

“Wait, they’re getting married?”

It was Allison now, standing next to Scott with David in her arms, looking at them excitedly.

“Who’s getting married?”

Laura asked, quickly followed by Chris who looked completely unimpressed.

“We’re getting married,” Derek said, pointing to himself and then Stiles.

Melissa and John were the last two to come in, both looking at the group and then at Stiles and Derek.

“You’re getting married?” Melissa asked.

“Yes,” Stiles said.

There was a group smile from everyone (except for Chris) as they all flocked into the kitchen.

“Oh God, here come the hugs,” Stiles groaned just as Melissa threw her arms around him.

Laura was the first one to hug Derek, wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking back and forth. “Oh, you big idiot, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks Laura,” Derek said, patting her on the back.

“I’m your Best Man-Woman-whatever the hell you’re going to call it, right?” she asked, leaning back from him slightly. “I mean, you were my Man of Honor, so…”

She trailed off, smiling and nodding at him.

“I would ask Scott, but since he’s probably going to be Stiles’, then yes- who else is going to do it?”

Laura made some kind of squealing noise before hugging him again. This time it was with a bit too much enthusiasm, since they were now wobbling slightly, trying not to hit the floor. Derek looked over at Stiles who was being tackle-hugged to the ground by Scott. Everyone else was just shaking their heads. Derek had no idea why they were surprised though, stuff like this happened at least three times a week.

After a few more hugs and smiles and a vague threat from Sheriff Stilinski (that Derek _thought_ was a joke), the missing member of the group came into the kitchen, pouting at all of them.

Amelia was four years-old (“I turn five in a month, I’m going to kindergarten next year, I’m practically a grown woman, Uncle Derek!” “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”) and heartbreakingly beautiful. She had virtually all of Laura’s features with her pale skin and dark wavy hair. Her eyes were the same blue as Chris’ though, and she now knew how to use them in several different ways. (Sometimes she was pouting, sometimes it was a threat, sometimes she used the puppy-dog tactic. This was always the worst since she would use Watson to help out. Derek could never say no to the pair of them.)

“What’s going on?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Uncle Derek and Uncle Stiles are going to get married,” Laura said, scooping her daughter into her arms.

Amelia’s pout got even deeper. Derek made his way toward her, running a hand through her hair. “Aren’t you happy?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “ _I_ wanted to marry Uncle Stiles.”

Everyone laughed and Amelia just looked even angrier. She was completely serious and Derek wasn’t exactly surprised. Even though she was his goddaughter, Amelia had always been attached to Stiles. They had redecorated one of their guest rooms into Amelia’s own room for when she stayed over (the walls were TARDIS blue on Stiles’ request) and every night that she stayed over she would insist that Stiles stay with her at all times.

She was practically attached to Stiles’ hip whenever she was in the same room as him, always asking him to read her a story or watch _Doctor Who_ episodes together (Scott was the only one who had managed to avoid it. Even Chris was addicted to the show now.) or bake a cake (which was always a disaster) or go swimming in the lake.

Derek couldn’t exactly blame her for wanting to be with Stiles all of the time since he was guilty of the same thing.

“Sorry, Pond,” Stiles said, using the nickname that Amelia loved. “But he asked me first.”

“But you love me more, right?” she asked.

“Of course!” Stiles said, taking her from Laura. “You’re the light of my life, Pond.”

“Then why don’t you marry me?”

“Because, I’ve loved your Uncle Derek for a very long time-.”

“-Oh, here we go,” Scott groaned, making a quick exit.

Everyone else followed as well, clearly not wanting to hear the Derek & Stiles Epic Love Story for the 15000th time.

“-And I’ve waited for years for him to get his act together and ask me.”

“Why couldn’t you just ask him?” Amelia asked. “You’re both boys, you could ask him.”

“Well, he’s always known that I’ve wanted to marry him,” Stiles said. “So, he needed to ask me, because if I had asked him he probably would have said no.”

“I wouldn’t have said no,” Derek said, pressing a kiss into Amelia’s hair.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles laughed, rolling his eyes. “Do you want to know the first time I wanted to ask you to marry me?”

“Sure.”

“At the airport just a few days after Amelia was born,” he said. “When I said that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and you said the same thing back, I wanted to ask you. But then some guy yelled that we needed to kiss and you attacked my face.”

“Uncle Stiles.”

“I ‘attacked your face’?”

“Uncle Stiles.”

“Sexily.”

“ _Uncle Stiles_!”

“Huh, yeah, what’s up, Pond?” Stiles said, bringing his attention back to the girl in his arms.

“Can you let me down?” she asked, wiggling around. “I gotta pee.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Stiles said, putting Amelia back on the floor.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, Amelia bounded out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Derek stepped closer to Stiles, backing him up against the counter and placing his hands on Stiles’ hips.

“You would have asked me in the airport?”

“Yeah and you would have said no.”

“Of course I would have said no, you were 18, Stiles.”

“But we knew,” Stiles said. “We knew that we were going to be together forever and shut up, yes I realize how corny that sounded.”

“That sounded like something I might say,” Derek grinned, pressing his forehead against Stiles’. “I just didn’t want to rush anything.”

“Okay, I get it,” Stiles said. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.”

“It’s better this way,” Derek insisted. “We have a house and jobs and you’re older and we’re out of school.”

“I’m still working on my master’s, in case you forgot.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Stiles said.

Derek smiled, placing a hand on Stiles’ chest and meeting him halfway for a kiss.

“So, someone has a pretty big birthday coming up in a month and two days,” Stiles said, smirking at him.

“Get rid of that countdown on your phone,” Derek groaned, moving away from him.

“Why are you so scared of turning 30?” Stiles asked. “You’re not old.”

“Stiles, don’t you have parent-teacher conferences for the first time exactly a month from today?”

Stiles glared at him and Derek smiled.

“Yeah, but on that blessed day when conferences are over and it’s a day till your birthday, I can make fun of you all I want.”

“I thought you said that 30 wasn’t old.”

“It’s not,” Stiles said. “I can make fun of you for thinking that it is, Old Man.”

“‘Old Man’, really?” Derek asked, pressing himself against Stiles so that he was once again trapped between Derek and the counter.

“Yeah, you’re pushing 30, Derek,” Stiles said, a lazy grin appearing on his lips. “I’m still a young and spry 23.”

“You’re right,” Derek said, nodding his head. “And you’re going to show me just how ‘young and spry’ you are tonight.”

“And how am I going to do that?”

“Well, after everyone is gone, we’re going to go upstairs,” Derek said, making sure to keep eye contact. “And you’re going to ride me. I’m just going to lie there too, doing absolutely nothing except for watching you. I’m going to watch as you stretch yourself open with your fingers, preparing yourself for me. I’m going to watch as you work yourself onto me, sinking down until I’m completely buried inside of you. And I’m going to do nothing but watch as you ride me. I won’t help you at all; you’re going to have to do everything.”

“And how do you know that I’ll be so willing to do all of those things?” Stiles asked, his voice thick and his eyes dark.

“Because I know how much you love it,” Derek said, pressing himself even firmer against Stiles. “I know how much you love being filled, how you would do anything for it, how you love it when my cum is dripping out of you afterward.”

“Fine, you’re right,” Stiles said, grabbing the back of Derek’s neck and bringing their foreheads together. “But I know that you would never let me do all of that on my own. Because you’re kind of a control freak in the bedroom, Derek. Even when I’m the one fucking you, you always want to be in control. There’s no way that you’re going to just lie there.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“Yeah, because just like you know me, Derek, I know you,” Stiles nodded. “I know how much you love it when I let you pin me down, when you just _take_ everything, how much you love that you’re the only one who’s ever kissed me, ever touched me, how much you love seeing me fucking _break_ under you.”

“Jesus, Stiles, shut up before I fuck you against the counter.”

“Oh, please do.”

“Oh, please _don’t_.”

Derek and Stiles sprung apart, both looking in the doorway to see Laura standing there looking like she was about to throw up.

“If you two are done contaminating the kitchen with your nauseating excuse for dirty talk, then I’m going to start cooking,” Laura said. “But maybe I should wipe down the entire room first. God knows what you two get up to in here.”

She then shooed them out of the kitchen, obviously not wanting them to start up another conversation. They went into foyer and Derek pressed Stiles against the nearest wall, sinking his tongue straight into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles grabbed his shirt, pulling him even closer to grind against him as Derek licked into his mouth. Hands were reaching down and bumping into each other as they unbuttoned and unzipped pants, trying to (and failing to) be quiet.

“God, Derek, everyone else is just-,” Stiles managed to say when Derek had relocated his mouth to Stiles’ jaw.

“Stiles this is our house and we’re two consenting adults and we’re engaged for fuck’s sake, we can do this if we want to.”

Apparently this was a good enough argument for Stiles since he reached into Derek’s pants and pulled out his half-hard cock. Derek did the same for Stiles, inhaling sharply when he realized that Stiles was already completely hard and leaking.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek breathed, moving Stiles’ hand from his dick to take both of them into his hand.

“Sorry,” Stiles sighed, tilting his head back against the wall. “I try to tell my body that I’m not a teenager anymore, but sometimes it doesn’t want to listen.”

“No,” Derek said, moving his hand lazily around them. “I love that you’re like this. Always so ready for me. Always so respondent to me.”

Stiles looked like he was about to speak, but any words that he would have said died when Derek tightened his grip on them. He let out a keening noise, hands grabbing Derek’s shoulders and burying his face into the crook of his neck.

It was good. Because, fuck, it was always good with Stiles. His face was hot pressed against Derek and his hips were bucking up into his fist, stifling little moans by biting his lip.

Well at least Derek assumed that he was biting his lip, since he couldn’t see his face. And, God, there weren’t a lot of things in the world that were better than Stiles’ face whenever Derek touched him. He was always so blissed out, so open, so wrecked, so willing.

Derek really wanted to see that.

“Look at me,” Derek said, feeling himself becoming close.

Stiles head went back again, pressing against the wall behind him. His face was flushed, eyes were half-lidded, and his bottom lip was red from him digging his teeth into it.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped, hands gripping tighter on Derek’s shoulders.

“That’s it, baby,” Derek said, pressing their foreheads together. “Come for me, do it, wanna watch you.”

And that was all it took to give Stiles his release, mouth falling open and eyes squeezing shut and fingers digging into Derek’s shoulders. Derek followed close behind, his own catalyst being Stiles’ expression.

When they finally came down from their high, Derek was pressing kisses into Stiles’ hair, his clean hand cupping the back of his neck.

“Good,” Stiles said finally. “That was… good.”

“Whatever you say, Young and Spry,” Derek chuckled, pressing his lips against Stiles’ temple. “We should probably change our clothes.”

Stiles looked down at them and shrugged. “Pants are fine, shirts need to go.”

“Mm, if you say so,” Derek said.

“We’re going to go upstairs for round two and _then_ we’re going to change clothes, right?”

“Of course. If Laura’s cooking, then we have at least an hour until she’s done.”

“You two idiots do realize that the kitchen is right next to the foyer, don’t you?!” Laura shouted. “The only reason I didn’t interrupt your little love fest is because I didn’t want to be legally blind for the rest of my life! Sadly, I can’t say that my ears have survived.”

“I’ll buy you earplugs for Christmas!” Derek shouted back.

Before Laura could respond, Stiles was grabbing Derek’s hand and dragging him up the stairs with him.

 

**OoOoOoO**

About an hour and a half later they were all sitting at the table in the dining room eating. The looks that were given to Derek and Stiles were hard to ignore, but they managed. Managed by looking at each other and chuckling.

“Hey, did you guys change your shirts?” Scott asked.

There were collective eye rolls/head shakes/sighs from practically everyone at the table.

“What? That’s crazy, Scott,” Stiles said, grinning at Derek. “Hey, Allison, can you pass the green beans?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be fluffy and rated G. Derek just really wanted to start talking dirty though and we all know where that leads.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
